Aiming for the Cowboy

Still, now was not the time. It was his son’s birthday and said son had pitched himself off the barn roof. The boy needed scolding in the worst way.

Nonetheless, as Helen walked in closer, he knew reprimanding Joey would have to take a backseat for the moment. Dodge was right, as he always was. Joey’s descent off the roof had been inevitable. Colt was just happy Dodge had prepared for it.

“Now, there’s a mighty fine woman.” Dodge patted Colt on the shoulder, and walked away. Colt stood.

Jenny stopped talking and also stood, moving next to Colt.

When Helen finally came within earshot, Colt said, “You left the tour just for Joey’s birthday party? We’re honored.”

He stepped away from Jenny, wanting to take Helen in his arms and never let go, but instead he felt awkward with Jenny once again at his elbow.

Helen stopped a couple feet in front of him. Her deep green eyes sparkled as she gazed over at encroaching Jenny, who had her hand out before Helen could respond to Colt.

“Hi, I’m Jenny Pickens.” She rested her other hand on Colt’s arm, familiar, as if they were a couple. His instinct was to flick it off like an annoying bug, but he didn’t want to be rude. She continued, “I don’t think we’ve ever officially met. You served me drinks a couple times at Belly Up. Don’t you still work there? What tour? Are you in a band? I always wanted to be in a band.”

Helen worked at Belly Up Saloon as a waitress and part-time bartender whenever she wasn’t on the road. At one point or another she’d probably served half the town a drink of some sort. Everyone seemed to end up at Belly Up for one occasion or another. It was the only real tavern for miles.

She gave Jenny a quick handshake, then let go. No smile. Her reaction to Jenny was as cold as ice on a frozen lake. “Nice to meet you.” She turned to Colt with a concerned look on her face. “Can we talk?”

But Jenny answered. “Sure. Why don’t we sit down on one of the benches on the front porch. It’s nice and shady there.”

Colt moved away from Jenny’s grip on his arm. “If you’ll excuse me, Jenny. This is between Helen and me.”

Jenny tilted her head, smiled sweetly and said, “Sure. Don’t you worry about me. I’ll be fine. Just fine. I’ll wait for you on the porch.”

She walked away, leaving an awkward silence between Colt and Helen. They both started talking at once. Colt trying to tell her that he just met Jenny today, but his words seemed garbled as he attempted to speak over Helen, who was asking if Jenny was his new girlfriend, a concept that stunned Colt.

Finally they both stopped.

“You first,” Colt said.

Helen hesitated for a moment, then said, “That’s one brave little boy you have there.”

“More like ornery and pigheaded if you ask me.”

“Like his father.”

“And his father before him. What brings you back to Briggs? Shouldn’t you be in Vegas, competing?”

“Actually, Tater’s still there. I’m having him transported in a couple days. Something’s happened and I’m on my way to Jackson to stay with my parents for a while, but I wanted to stop here first and...”

His stomach pitched as he took a step closer and reached out for her. She stepped back, away from his touch. “Are you okay? What’s wrong? Something wrong with your parents?”

She completely befuddled him. His mind raced with scenarios. None of them good.

“Nothing like that.” She glanced over at Jenny, now seated on the front porch. “Is there someplace private?”

He chuckled. “Sure, we can try, but at the moment—” he nodded toward Joey and his boys charging straight for them “—that doesn’t look too promising.”

Joey ran right for him at full speed, calling his name, looking all proud of himself. “Papa! Papa! Did you see me?” He ran smack into Colt as he swooped up his boy in his arms, giving him a tight squeeze, thankful there were no broken bones.

“You had me scared as a jackrabbit with a fox on its trail. Never do that again. You hear me, son? Never.”

Joey’s face went all serious. His blue eyes instantly lost their sparkle. “But, Papa, it’s my fourth birthday and Gramps said you jumped off the roof when you were four. Isn’t that what I was supposed to do?”

“Sounds about right to me,” Helen said as Colt’s other two boys grabbed hold of her with tight hugs. Colt knew how much his boys liked Helen, but he also knew they were a handful when they tackled her like they were doing now.

“Boys, give her some breathing room.”

They let go and tackled Colt instead, knocking him to the ground, where they wrestled and tickled him. “Wait!” Colt yelled over their laughter and squeals. “You boys almost gave me a heart attack. What the heck were you thinking?”

They stopped attacking Colt and Joey got all serious. “Did you have a heart attack, Papa? Should I call nine-one-one?”

“No, I’m fine, but that’s beside the point.”

“You didn’t have a heart attack and I jumped off the roof. That makes me happy. Are you happy?”

Colt sat up and looked Joey in the eyes. “Promise me you’ll never, ever do that again.”

“Why would I do it again? I could hurt myself.”

Helen let out a little laugh. Colt shot her a look. “This is serious.” He turned back to his boy. “That’s right, son. You could break some bones or worse.”

“Of course he could, that’s why we moved the trampoline over,” Buddy, his oldest, said.

“We’re not stupid, Daddy,” Gavin chimed in.

“Yeah, Daddy,” Helen added.

Colt tried to keep a straight face, but was having a difficult time of it.

“I didn’t want to jump into the manure pile like you did,” Joey said. “That stinks and I might have missed and landed on the ground. I could crack my head open and die on my birthday. I don’t want to die on my birthday. That’s no fun. I’d miss out on all the presents and cake. Can we cut my cake now?”

Colt grinned at Joey, unable to stay angry at his youngest for more than five seconds. “Yes. Cake sounds like a good idea.” He stood, and his boys stood, as well. “You run and tell your aunt Maggie it’s time. She made the cake especially for you.”

“It’s a real cake, right? She didn’t let Aunt Kitty make it out of broccoli or anything healthy, did she? I won’t have to pretend I like it, will I?”

Kitty, Maggie’s sister, was an honorary aunt who tended to overdo “green.”

“Nope, your aunt Maggie told me it’s pure sugar and flour.”

“Yay!” Joey yelled and the three boys took off to look for their aunt Maggie, while Colt shook off any lingering tension that had encompassed his body.

“How the heck do parents do it with a whole houseful of kids? Three boys are enough to keep me up all night worrying about what crazy shenanigans they might come up with next. I never even considered a planned jump off the barn roof. If I had any more kids, I’d probably go insane.”

He felt thankful he’d had the wherewithal to take care of that possibility years ago.

Besides, when his beautiful wife died in childbirth with Joey, he’d decided then and there he never, ever wanted to be responsible for another pregnancy as long as he lived.

He turned to Helen. “Now, what did you want to talk to me about?”

Chapter Two

It had taken Helen three days to drive to Briggs, Idaho, from Vegas, and on the way she’d taken four home pregnancy tests, gone through three boxes of tissue and arrived on the Granger ranch puffy-eyed, solidly pregnant and homeless. She had leased out her little house for six months to a family of four, who had happily settled in.

The drive had been grueling due to all the stops she’d made not only to pee a million times, but because she could barely see the road through her tears. She had cried almost the entire drive back, not so much over the pregnancy itself but more about the stifling fear she felt over being someone’s mom. Heck, even though she had recently turned twenty-eight years old, she could barely take care of herself, let alone a whole other person.

Helen decided that telling Colt he had fathered baby number four after he about had a coronary when his youngest jumped off the barn roof might have been the wrong moment to break the news. Then there was always his date, a woman totally wrong for Colt, who seemed a tad bit overly protective, and clingy.

Not exactly the optimum time to tell a cowboy who had taken the radical step to ensure he would never father another child that he had indeed impregnated another woman.

So instead, Helen made her excuses and abruptly left the party right after Jenny Pickens sashayed back to Colt and draped her scrawny little arm around his shoulder.

That was more than four months ago.

Since that day, Helen had secured Tater at M & M Riding School in Briggs, where she had boarded him for the past couple of years when she wasn’t on the road, then driven to her parents’ house in Jackson, Wyoming, less than an hour away. She’d spent the majority of her time allowing her friends and family to shamelessly dote on her every whim while she adjusted to her new life.

Apparently she’d needed all that doting, because only in the past few weeks had she finally reached the total-acceptance stage. She was good with her pregnancy now, had gone through the five stages of mourning over her old, carefully planned life and was looking forward to all that motherhood had to offer...at least on her good days.

Her sweet and affectionate stepmom, Janet, had provided her with an e-reader and loaded it up with every conceivable book related to pregnancy and the baby’s first year. Some of it soothed Helen’s concerns, while others she’d read, especially details of the delivery, gave her night sweats. She dreaded getting a tooth filled; how on earth was she ever going to push out an entire baby?

The concept crippled her. So instead, she put the e-reader in a drawer and told herself she’d deal with it later.

Her logical electronic engineer dad had helped get her finances in order, and had generously contributed to her dwindling bank account so she no longer had to worry about funds. Her cousins, aunts, uncles and benevolent friends had all rallied around her with support and nonstop love. Helen felt truly blessed.

Now all she had to do was tell Colt Granger he was the father, a fact that everyone in her circle kept nudging her to do, but she kept resisting. Each time she had screwed up enough courage to tell him, she found a hundred reasons why she couldn’t make the phone call or drive that long hour to Briggs. Add to that an element that he might not believe her, and it was everything Helen could do to even think about how she would broach the subject.

What finally forced her to have to cowgirl up and face him was an official phone call from Mrs. Milton, one of the owners from the riding school. After thirty years in business, the school, land and private home was up for sale. The owners had decided to retire, a fact that saddened Helen more than she thought possible. The M & M Riding School had been her summer home for most of her teen years and the arena at the school had served as her main training ground ever since she’d taken cowboy mounted shooting seriously.

She was informed that Tater was one of only three horses still left that needed to be moved. “We kept him as long as we could, honey, hoping that we’d get a quick sale and you could board him with the new owners. Unfortunately, that isn’t the case, so you’ll have to move him in the next few days. Sorry to put you under such pressure, but our new house in town is ready and we want to get settled in before the holidays.”

“Not a problem,” Helen told her, thinking she’d move him over to her cousin Milo’s place in Briggs until she could find him a more permanent home. She knew he wouldn’t mind. He’d boarded Tater before and loved him almost as much as Helen did.

The call required immediate action, and so did her growing condition.

It was time she took charge, moved her horse and told Colt the truth despite her apprehensions.

“I’ll be there tomorrow,” she told Mrs. Milton. She disconnected, walked out onto her parents’ back porch, gazed out at the bright blue sky, the surrounding mountains and contemplated Colt Granger.

She hadn’t seen or heard anything about Colt since Joey’s birthday. He’d called a couple times, but she hadn’t returned his calls. She’d been thrown into a lifelong responsibility with a man who was dating other women, Jenny Pickens just to name one. Now that he’d started dating again, who knew how many more women were chomping at the bit to be in his little black book. For all she knew, practically every single woman in the entire county had made the cut. It was only a matter of time until he found Ms. Right, and it certainly wouldn’t be her.

Helen was more in the Ms. All Wrong category, and for now, that suited her just fine. They’d made love exactly once. Okay, so it was powerful and more passionate than what she’d ever experienced with any other man, but that didn’t mean they could ever have a viable relationship. For starters, he had three sons, three ornery, unmanageable sons. She had fears and apprehensions about one child, let alone three more.

Her baby moved and kicked as she sat back rubbing her tummy, grateful that she could trust her family with her secret until she was ready to tell Colt. She decided to spend a few days with her cousin Milo Gump in Briggs. Everyone in the family had an open invitation to stay on Milo’s ranch. He liked the company, especially now that his parents had retired to a smaller place in Oregon, and his sister had moved to Austin, Texas, with her new husband.

Her thirty-year-old cousin was a man who was generous to a fault, and the one person in the entire world she could trust with a secret.

* * *

“YOU TOLD MAGGIE GRANGER, Colt’s sister-in-law, that I’m pregnant?” Helen couldn’t believe Milo could betray her after she’d told him several times not to tell anyone until she personally broke the news to Colt.

“You can’t exactly hide it,” Milo said, staring at her prominent belly. She wore a stretchy green top that caressed her baby bump, boot-cut maternity jeans and her favorite tan-colored cowgirl boots.

“That’s not the point. I drove straight here. No one in this gossip-centered town has seen me yet.”

“Jackson is only a hop-skip away. It ain’t exactly out of drivin’ range. Anyone from Briggs could’ve seen you.”

“If someone had seen me, I would know about it.”

“Calm down,” Milo said, a look of guilt on his chubby face. “I merely told her you’d been taking it easy for a while, staying with your parents in Jackson until the baby came. I didn’t say a word about Colt being its daddy.”

Helen stared up at Milo from the brown leather sofa in his Western-style living room. She had finally gotten somewhat comfortable after having spent the past hour getting her stomach to settle down long enough so she could eat a bowl of vegetable soup he’d prepared for her that was now getting cold on his coffee table.

She’d driven in the previous night, and ever since she’d arrived her already sensitive stomach seemed to be in a continual state of agitation.

Sort of like her nerves.

“How could you think this information wouldn’t get back to Colt?”

Milo plopped down in his recliner across from her, the chair groaning under his weight. He was one of those big guys, not really fat, just big-boned, with a six-foot-five height that would intimidate almost anyone who came his way. He had a sweet face that told anyone who came near him that he was a teddy bear, until you got him riled. Then he was a force to be reckoned with.

Still, Milo was a gentle giant, and Helen loved him to pieces...until this very moment.

“She’s the one who asked me why you wasn’t at the fair. You know it’s Spud Week and everybody’s down to the fairgrounds for the fair. It’s obvious that you’ve been missing. ’Specially since you didn’t participate in the Spud Tug this year. Our team won, by the way.”

The Spud Tug was a tug-of-war over a pit of mashed potatoes instead of mud. Helen usually participated on Milo’s team.

“Your team always wins.”

“I know,” he chided and Helen gazed over at his latest Spudphy, a six inch high golden-colored russet potato man wearing a cowboy hat, cowboy boots on his tiny legs and a belt around his wide midsection. There were at least ten Spudphys perched on Milo’s bookshelf, along with many other potato-oriented awards.

Next to Christmas, Spud Week in Briggs was the biggest celebration going. Schools closed, businesses shut down early and everyone headed out to the fairgrounds in honor of the almighty potato.

“You could have told her that I took a fall and injured myself. That I’m suddenly allergic to potatoes. I don’t know. Anything would’ve been better than telling her the truth. Did she say anything after you told her?”

“All she said was, I understand. And then she walked off to meet up with her sister, Kitty.”

“She said, I understand.”

“Yeah, that’s good, right?” His face lit up, and he looked like a little boy eager to please with his curly dark hair falling over his ears, and down his collar.

Helen stood, anxious to get to the fair to find Colt. She knew he’d be there all day with his boys. There were always a lot of games for kids to participate in and she knew from previous years that his boys liked to join in as many as they could.

“No, that’s very bad. I’ve got to get to Colt before rumors start to fly.”

“Well, I told you to tell him when you visited months ago.” He slid into a reclining position and turned on his favorite TV show on the food channel, its glamorous host, who he would run away with in a heartbeat, popped up on the screen. Today she would be cooking up a backyard picnic and Milo had every intention of sitting and watching the entire show with his notepad and pen at the ready.

“I know, but the timing wasn’t right. Joey had just nearly killed himself.”

The opening shots of the chef’s Texas ranch came up on the sixty-inch flat-screen TV. Milo increased the volume. He loved her Italian theme song.

“She’s chopping pineapples and cabbage today for coleslaw, and I love to watch her chop things. Best part of the show.”

“That’s a little sick.”

“No, it ain’t. Not the way you think anyway. I’m a horrible chopper. She’s a master.”

The theme song ended and the host stood in her kitchen, picked up her chopping knife and began chopping away.

“Look at the way she handles that cabbage, and that big knife. She’s got a real talent for chopping. It’s an art.”

Helen stared at Milo in disbelief.

“Since when do you care about slicing vegetables?”

“Since I entered the show’s contest. If I win, I get to fly to Texas to her ranch for a full two days of cooking lessons, then dinner with her out on her private veranda. That would be heaven.”

“You only eat hot dogs, burgers, spuds and an occasional steak.”

“Yeah, but a man can dream, can’t he?” He closed his eyes as the show went to a commercial. After a second or two, a wide smile creased his lips. “Besides, I’m learning how to cook because of her.”

She stuck a hand to her hip. “Be careful what you wish for, big cousin.”

“As careful as you are, little cousin.” He opened his eyes and turned to her. “Now get yourself over to that there fair and tell your man you’re carryin’ his child. Then let him do the right thing and everybody’ll be happy.”

“That’s not why I’m telling him.”

“Oh?” His eyebrow went up.

“He has a right to know, is all.”

“Sweetheart, you’ve had a crush on Colt Granger since you was kids.”

“Yes, and it’s still a crush.”

He turned, looked down at her belly and grinned. “Seriously?”

“It was just one crazy night. Nothing more.”

“Looks like a lot more to me.”

Helen sighed, turned on her heels, grabbed her purse off the coffee table and headed for the door. Sometimes her cousin could be so dang frustrating.

* * *

IT WAS A PERFECT Teton Valley fall day, a clear blue sky, a cool breeze skipping down from the surrounding mountains and the tall grasses elegantly bending with each breeze. The air smelled sweet, and the sun tried its best to warm Colt, but there was a deep freeze that clung to his heart. His sister-in-law, Maggie, had mentioned that Helen was pregnant. If it was true, he figured the father had to be some no-account cowpoke from the circuit, or why else would she be living with her folks?

But Colt knew Helen fairly well so he absolutely refused to believe it, and wouldn’t believe it until he heard it from Helen herself. Colt knew enough about town rumors to know they were only half-truths, but with this bit of gossip he was hopeful the entire tale was a fabrication. And until he heard otherwise, he intended to try to enjoy the piglet races with his boys, who were somewhat behaved on this fine evening.

Colt and Buddy, his oldest, who had to tell everyone he would soon be eight and a half, sat side by side in the third row on the metal bleachers. Colt’s other two sons, Joey and six-year-old Gavin, sat on the other side of Buddy. Normally, Colt would sit in the middle with his boys flanking his sides, but ever since the roof incident, and Colt’s stern warning before he tucked them into bed each night, his boys seemed to be more agreeable than pups in a basket.

The piglet races were one of the highlights of the fair, and the crowded stands were testament to that fact. Black-and-white silks adorned the small oval track. Wood shavings encircled the floor of the track that couldn’t be more than a hundred and fifty feet around. With five rows of metal bleachers on three sides, it would soon be standing room only.

Four baby oinkers adorned in various colors of brown, green, pink and black, with their big ears flapping, were hand-carried out onto the track from a colorful thirty-foot trailer, introduced to the excited audience, then placed in separate cages that sat on the starting line. Colt, his boys and the audience cheered, clapped and whistled as the Swinemaster, a rugged-looking cowboy sporting a handlebar mustache and a large white classic cowboy hat, announced the upcoming race.

“Racing as piglet number one we have Bob Beboar. Number two is our darling Josephine Hoglarson, number three is Stephanie Porkman and finally number four is the lovely Olive Oinkly.”

The crowd reacted with hoots and whistles just as Colt spotted Helen heading right for him. She looked about as pretty as the first spring rose. She wore her favorite straw cowboy hat and if he wasn’t mistaken, he could make out the necklace he’d given her around her pretty neck.

His heart raced.

His palms were clammy.

Suddenly all he could think of was her naked body lying under him as he kissed her. The scent of her. The feel of her silky skin. Her warm touch on his—

The crowd parted and he spotted her prominent baby bump.

His breath hitched.

“Hey, good-lookin’,” Lana Thomson said as she made her way toward Colt. He’d forgotten that Travis had set him up with Lana for the festival. It suddenly dawned on him that he was supposed to have met her near the front entrance to the wine booths a good twenty minutes ago, but with everything else going on around him at the fair, he’d completely forgotten.

“Lana, hi!” he said, jumping up to greet her as he desperately tried to think up an excuse for why meeting her had completely slipped his mind. He wished his brothers would stop trying to pair him with every available girl in town. Of all people, Lana Thomson, who was about as right for him as a Vegas showgirl.

“Good thing I ran into your dad or I would’ve thought you stood me up. I know I was a little late getting here, but that couldn’t be helped. A girl has to look her best on her first date with a Granger. The competition is steep, sweetie, but from what I hear, the rewards are just this side of heaven.” She gave him a slow once-over, lingering a little too long on body parts she shouldn’t be staring at in a public place, especially with his boys sitting next to him.